


We Were Runaways

by Anicdestiny



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Not sure yet cause I'm making this up as I go, escaping reality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 11:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29775570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anicdestiny/pseuds/Anicdestiny
Summary: "I don't want to do this, Sylvain!!" She pulled at her long blonde hair."I know, Ing', I do. That's why I'm here." He kicked the door shut behind him carefully."W...what?" Her wet seafoam-green eyes met his."I'm gonna get you out of this.""...What??"He chuckled softly and pulled her head back to his chest. "I'm rescuing you."
Relationships: Ingrid Brandl Galatea & Sylvain Jose Gautier, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Kudos: 6





	We Were Runaways

**Author's Note:**

> Please note i am no expert of lore or anything of the sort, take this story with a grain of salt. Or don't- up to you. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

"Oh, Lady Ingrid! You look stunning!"

She had been hearing that for the past 30 minutes, she was sick of it.

"Thank you. Now go." The blonde demanded, ushering the maids away.

They listened, scurrying out of the dressing room.

Ingrid stood on the small fitting platform, staring at herself in the tall mirror. She looked sweet, elegant, refined and poised; all the things a woman should be. All the things that Ingrid wasn't, and she hated it.

She kicked the long chiffon out from under her feet and stepped down, walking to the water basin. She grabbed a rag from the side and scrubbed off some of the heavy make-up that had been applied to her face. Her skin felt irritated and angry, it was slightly pink as she pulled the rag away. The girl stood over the bowl for a long moment, taking in the day's events that had yet to come.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Ingrid?"

She stiffened but still dragged herself over to the door to open it.

"Wait." They said as the doorknob clicked.  
"Don't open the door, it's bad luck."

Ingrid rolled her eyes but her frustration and fear dissipated. She smiled gently.  
"Glenn, what is it?"

"I just... I wanted to check on you. I know neither of us are particularly excited about this..." He said from beyond the door.

"Yeah..." She agreed, "I know. I'm fine, Glenn... I will be fine. How're you holding up..?"

"I'm alright, I suppose..."

She read his tone,  
"No you aren't. Don't lie to me."

He sighed,  
"Estele said she was happy for us.... for you, but I saw the tears, Ingrid. She's not okay and I don't know how to help her. Perhaps it's selfish of me, considering we're going to be married in less than an hour..." He hesitated, "But I care for her. I don't want to leave her like this... leave us like this."

Even though she wasn't extremely excited to marry him, much less in love with him, it did pinch at her heart to hear him speak so openly, so clearly of his love for another girl.

She'd met Estele once or twice before. She was a kind girl, long brown hair and gorgeous gray eyes. Her skin was tanned from sun exposure, indicating she wasn't from the Kingdom. Nevertheless, Glenn had fallen in love with her but he could never truly act on it because he was prematurely betrothed to the Crested heir to House Galatea, Ingrid. She'd always felt guilty for taking that chance for true love from him but knew their marriage was for the best. Her heart still ached when she thought about it.

"I'm.. I'm so sorry, Glenn. If only we weren't so poor..."

"Ingrid." He interrupted, "It isn't your fault. You did nothing to affect that."

"You're right, I know that, I just feel responsible for it. I probably always will..."

He sighed,  
"It'll be okay, Ingrid. We'll.. learn to get used to it."

She shut her eyes tightly, she sighed.  
"We've got to."

She could feel him nod though she couldn't see him.  
"I'll let you be now, see you in a bit."

Ingrid's eyes shut. She nodded back, placing her hand to the door.  
"Okay." She hesitated, "....Love..you."

Glenn was silent for a moment, she knew he'd moved away from the door.  
"You too."

After hearing him walk away, a feeling of utter despair bowled over her. She slid down to the floor, crumbling under the weight of broken hearts and fractured dreams, royal lines and hopeless citizens depending on their leader for support. 

This is my duty. She kept telling herself.  
This is what I was born for. 

Her eyes started welling up. She attempted to stop them by tilting her head up, it didn't work. The tears slipped over the edges of her eyes and fell to her chest, dampening the soft satin of the corset.

She felt so hopeless, so broken and useless. It was like she was a piece of China finally being purchased to be used as display in yet another shop window.

Ingrid was just a pretty object to be sold. She realized that a long time ago. Of course, her father cared for her. Yet, he still arranged for her to be married off for the purpose of a dowry and Crested blood. She didn't hate him for it, but she did grow exhausted of his insistence. But now, of course, she was finally being married meaning Galatea would soon have the funds it needed. That's all that matters.. right?

"Ingrid," 

Her head shot up, she shook it. "Glenn, please, I need a minute."

"Ingrid, it's Sylvain."

Sylvain? He wasn't- why was he here? Had he been invited? She honestly had no clue. "Sylvain..?"

"Yeah, can I come in?"

She hesitated a moment but ultimately stood up and reached for the door handle. He pushed as she pulled and they stood face to face. Sylvain was taller, he always had been. It felt so natural to stare up at him like this, their eyes locked in a knowing exchange.

It hurt.

For whatever reason, it hurt so badly to look up at him now. She knew this was probably the last time they'd do this as close friends. Because, soon, she'd be married and wouldn't have time to spend with friends. And having a husband and a male best friend? Yeah, probably not the best idea. Whatever her feelings about it, Glenn came first.

Suddenly he pulled her into his arms. She didn't even hesitate to return his embrace because it was all she really needed in that moment. Tears crept up on her before she could stop herself and she cried into his chest. She cried and mourned the life she couldn't have. She grieved for the loss of her independence and the pain of broken dreams. It all came crashing down on her- again- as her older friend held her close.

"I don't want to do this, Sylvain!!" She pulled at her long blonde hair. 

"I know, Ing', I do. That's why I'm here." He kicked the door shut behind him carefully.

"W...what?" Her wet seafoam-green eyes met his.

"I'm gonna get you out of this." 

"...What??"

He chuckled softly and pulled her head back to his chest. "I'm rescuing you." 

Ingrid pushed away from him. Her eyes wide. "How???" 

"I have a plan. Just trust me, Ing'."

Her eyebrows knitted together at his words. He had always been a troublemaker, a rascal, a flirt and a relatively troubling person. She couldn't help but feel a little doubtful.

"Trust me." Sylvain said again, his honey-brown eyes melting into her own. 

The pounding of her heart made her shiver. She looked down to see his hands holding hers. 

"I won't let you down, I promise you that." 

Her head turned up. "You... you promise?" 

He squeezed her hands. "I'll stake my life on it."

Her heart stopped. "Don't say things like....no, it won't come down to that."

"Okay, it won't, but you have to trust me on this."

Ingrid glanced towards her veil that draped over a small stool by the vanity. Her head itched just thinking about it. After a minute, she turned back to him and nodded. 

Sylvain smiled and kissed the back of her hand. He then turned from her and opened the door.

"Enjoy your wedding, Miss Galatea." 

She forced a smile and returned the gesture. "You too, Mr. Gautier."

And again, she was alone, with nothing but her empty thoughts to accompany her. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, it ached and cried for... well, everything. She leaned against the door again, for a long time. 

Come back. She thought back to what her vermillion-haired friend had promised her, Come rescue me.

~ 

He didn't come.

The ceremony had come and gone and the reception was almost over. Everyone was celebrating the union of Fraldarius and Galatea's houses and drinking and chatting merrily. That is... everyone except the newly weds. 

Ingrid wasn't exactly sure where Glenn was, but she was glad he wasn't there. It wasn't that she hated him, she just couldn't bear to look at him and understand that she was married to him. Maybe, if this had been under different circumstances, they could've really fallen in love. But unfortunately, that was not the case, not the case at all. This marriage hurt both of them as much as it helped their respective houses. They both wished to call it off but it was too late now. They were married, they were Mr. and Mrs. Fraldarius-Galatea, they were bound by the shackles of fake love and hopeless dreams that held them to each other against their will. The chains dug into their wrists and pulled at the very edges of their souls. It was an emotional pain indescribable through words alone. Standing in the ballroom, putting on a smile and expressing endless 'thank you's, her heart only cracked more and more with the passing moment. She filled the gaps with the most unstimulating of conversations with various other nobles and the like. Some of her friends from the Academy were there. Well, 'friends' was a definite overstatement, she'd only known them for a brief few months before being pulled back to be married after her eighteenth birthday. Nevertheless, it was slightly comforting to have familiar people there with her. Still, she knew she probably wouldn't see them again. As a result, the goodbyes they shared were a bit drawn out and painfully wistful. She bade farewell to a gray-haired boy and stood silently again, her seafoam-green eyes fixed on her bouquet of snowdrops and daffodils. The make-up that had been reapplied to her pale face was melting under the heat of candle light and of the many, many people in the room. She wiped some of it off of her eyelashes and blinked a few times to unstick them. Her face fell from the sweet smile she'd held for hours and quickly shifted to pain and a grief she'd never known. But then, as if everything was fine, there was a hand on her shoulder and a voice by her ear.

"Excuse me, but your husband wants to speak with you." He then turned to a nearby group of approachers, "Sorry, guys, but Mrs. Fraldarius is being summoned." 

Ingrid stared up at the male. 

"Now," He held out his hand as the other retreated behind his back. "M'lady?"

She hesitated. She felt angry, and sad, and betrayed. He had promised he'd get her out of it. He had lied. 

She glared, her evergreen eyes sent a chill through his spine. 

Finally, she lifted her hand and placed it atop his. He took it and led her through the crowd of guests. 

Her anger began bubbling over. "I knew I shouldn't have trusted you. You lied to me, Sylvain." 

Sylvain said nothing, just continued leading her by the hand until they reached the front doors to the ballroom. He pushed open one of the doors and let her through. Begrudgingly, she moved past him into the hallway and, surprisingly, it was empty. Glenn was no where to be seen. She turned her head up to him.

"Where is he?" She said curtly.

"You didn't think I'd actually bring you to him, did you?" 

Ingrid froze and recounted the events of the day. "Yes. Considering you bailed on me." 

He threw her a change of clothes and ran a hand through his hair. "If this is me 'bailing on you', then what do you count as me rescuing you?" 

She examined the attire. A light mint-green tunic, white leggings, and aegean riding boots with gold trim. They were all her clothes, but at this moment, there was something different about how they felt in her hands. Ingrid stared up at the male questioningly. 

"Nike's waiting outside. She's saddled up and ready to go." He gestured to the front entrance.

Her eyes widened. "She's..."

"You're taking off!" Sylvain smiled. "And I'm coming with you."

She startled at this and looked at him. Without a word, she disappeared into a nearby broom closet and hurriedly changed. Her clothes fit well, unlike the horrid dress that pinned up her torso so tight she could pass for a well-dressed feather duster. After she looked both ways, she moved back over to her friend. Sylvain turned to her with a light smile. "Better?"

"Much better." She agreed with a relieved sigh.

"I thought so," His eyes softened, "Fits you." 

Her gaze shifted from his warm honey-brown eyes to the ground. As she neared him, she couldn't help but notice how her heart started running a marathon in her chest. Her cheeks felt hot as did her ears. It was a rush of overwhelming gratitude, adrenhaline, and a little bit of fear, she decided, and she loved it.

Suddenly she found herself against his midsection, her face buried into his chest. Her peach-pink lips moved before she could think to filter her words. "Thank you, Sylvain, for everything."

He didn't hesitate to hug her back, he pulled her to his chest for the second time that day and spoke softly by her ear. "Anything for you."

The words felt warm in her heart as she pulled away. Unfortunately, that warmth was cooled almost instantly when something occurred to her. "Where's Glenn?"

Sylvain put a hand on her shoulder. "He knows, Ing'. He helped."

Ingrid blinked.

"He wished you the best of luck and a life of love." His smile turned slightly wistful.

She thought about it for a moment and found herself smiling as a tear fell unexpectedly from her eye. She felt him wipe it away as soon as it fell to her chin. 

"It's okay. He loves you, maybe not as a wife, but as his friend. He always will." 

"Yeah... he does, doesn't he?" 

"He does." 

"Glenn's a good man..." Ingrid said, more to herself than Sylvain.

"Definitely. Better than most men I know at least." Sylvain gave a small nod.

She squeezed his hand. She knew, she really knew.

"Enough of that," He pulled his hand away. "People are going to notice the bride is missing sometime, and Nike's gonna get cold! Let's get going, yeah?"

Ingrid's lips curled into a smile and she nodded. With that, Sylvain grabbed her hand and ran for the doors of the estate. 

Everything after is a blur of light and cold and the flap of wings and sharp winter air. It's excitement and regret and sadness and anxiety but it's filled with hope and the twinge of a pipe dream.

**Author's Note:**

> 2nd note: I don't know how to put italics on here! Someone let me know pls~ thanks


End file.
